Bad Hair Day
by trisana
Summary: Cadet Abigail Geoghegan has somehow found out about the Stargate program. Sparks fly as she's enrolled in Jack's training camp. COMPLETED. WOOT!
1. Introductions

A/N: This is my first fic people, so be patient. And PLEASE REVIEW. _Constructive_ criticism is appreciated.

Disclaimer: ABBY IS MINE! (The cadet) STEAL HER AND DIE! All the others (in this chapter at least) are someone else's, much as I may wish it different.

A redheaded cadet flounced into his office, making the formidable colonel growl. _It's _that _one_, he couldn't stop himself from thinking. Today was not going his way, and the colonel _definitely_ didn't need a lecture on wormhole physics or some other crap from this cadet to top it off.

"Requesting permission for shore leave, sir," the blonde girl saluted crisply.

The colonel blinked. Hadn't her hair just been red? He pushed the thought out of his mind. He couldn't care less about her hair color, up to and including the point where it turned purple with pink stripes, green polka dots, and burst into flames the size of Calcutta.

"Sir? Colonel?" The girl was clearly worried by his lack of response. "Shore leave? Requesting permission?"

"Cadet!" the colonel barked suddenly, causing the cadet to jump, her raven black hair bouncing around her waist, in defiance of clear regulations. This made the colonel blink again, then resolve to put it out of his mind. He continued with his tirade. "Shore leave, girl? _SHORE LEAVE!_ We're not on the _Pro_-, I mean a ship, cadet! Can't you just ask for leave, regular leave, like the rest of the sentient galaxy?"

As the brunette's eyes widened in shock, amazement, and delight, the grizzled colonel was mentally cursing himself. He'd gotten her started. He'd mentioned alien life.

"I knew I could bring you around!" the cadet was saying excitedly. She wilted under her CO's glare, though. "Sir," she continued, back to formality, as she remembered the rank and authority of the person behind the desk, "Requesting permission for…leave…sir."

"Permission granted, on one condition. That you get out of my office _right now_."

"Oh, thank you, sir! I could just kiss you!"

"I'd rather not, " the man said, suddenly nervous, "just get your blue head out of my office, that'll be enough for me."

"Oh, it's blue now?" the cadet sounded somewhat puzzled. "It's never done _that_ before. Strange." And with that, the girl, still with a confused look on her face, got her blue head out of his office.

The colonel breathed a sigh of relief when she was gone. A whole visit, and no mention of wormholes or those Goa'uld freaks she was saying kept trying to take over the galaxy. The efforts that were only stopped by one Colonel Jack O'Neill.

That made the colonel very proud. Looking over at a plaque on his wall, he noticed it was made out to a Colonel Jack O'Neill. And the man hadn't stolen it.

Colonel Jack O'Neill leaned back in his chair with a smile. Crazy hair or no, they needed more cadets like that girl.


	2. Warp Factor 20

A/N: Look, I don't care if you hate it, I'm still going to keep putting chappys up. This has been 'in the works' for a long time.

Just as if it looked like Colonel O'Neill was going to refuse her request for shore leave, he had turned around. _Yes!_ Abby thought triumphantly. _Not only that, but he as good as told me hat the Stargate program exists._

As the 'crazy' cadet entered the locker room, she was grateful that it was empty. She promptly marched up to a mirror and began lecturing.

"Look, I don't care if you have to change once in a while, but every few seconds doesn't count as once in a while! _And_, could you stick to natural colors? Blue is _not_ a natural color. You nearly _petrified_ Colonel O'Neill! How _could_ you! You can say you were just getting something out, burning excess energy, but you nearly blew up the whole plan! Try a stunt like that again, and you won't have excess energy to burn, or any energy at all, for that matter! You-"

The sound of the locker room door opening cut off Abby's tirade. A head poked through the door. It was Colonel O'Neill.

"You know it is strictly against regulations for a girl to be in the boy's locker room," he was saying in his best Air Force manner. "And, you are also aware that a disregard of regulations results in a suspension of your…leave. This room becomes the boy's locker room in five…four…th-"

Abby never gave him a chance to finish. If someone who understood such things was present, they would say the cadet-now a strawberry blonde-had strapped some nacelles to her butt and taken off at warp factor 20. She was out the door at the other end of the room and halfway across the compound before the colonel could reach two.

Jack was, quite frankly, dumbfounded. He had never seen anyone move that fast in this or any other lifetime. Now that he had been "promoted" to 'paper shuffler,' albeit stripped of command of the SGC and the rank of Brigadier General (in reality the only thing that he'd started shuffling papers for), SG-1 could use another member…

Jack couldn't help remembering the events of that fateful day that had cost him his rank. One wrong word to the President, well, as screaming match wit the President (it was his fault!), and he was on the next train to nowhere.


	3. Recollections

A/N: This is taking place within Jack's mind. Words that _aren't_ in italics are emphasized Thank you. The thing from Peter David's novels was, in Double Helix book 5, _Double or Nothing_, Admiral Jellico and Captain Calhoun had…a falling out. The actual quote is, "I don't care who your friends are! I don't care who supports you! I don't care if 'Calhoun is my favorite captain' appears on the wall of Starfleet Headquarters in flaming letters 12 feet high!" The ATT thing goes out to Mr. Hodgens, my Algebra I teacher. Hooray for the bald headed man!

"_Sir! General! General O'Neill!" Samantha Carter was saying. She seemed quite alarmed. "Sir! Your meeting with the president starts _now! _Get out of bed!"_

_Jack was in full dress uniform under his covers. He'd _known_ something like this was going to happen. He should never have scheduled a meeting—especially a meeting with the President—at eight hundred hours._

_Brigadier General Jack O'Neill, former head of SG-1, current head of Stargate Command glanced at the alarm clock. 0758 gleamed sadistically in red numbers, seeming to drip gore to Jack's exhausted eyes. He hopped out of bed. "Lieutenant Colonel, bring me a _large_ glass of the most robust coffee we have, and dissolve a couple of those caffeine pills in there."_

"_Sir," Sam sounded wary. "Are you sure that this will give you a dignified manner in front of the President with you all hopped up on caffeine?"_

_Jack was already on the move toward the door. "Sam, sleeping in all this clank," he gestured to his uniform, "Is not comfortable." He ran out of his quarters. "This is a last-ditch effort to wake up my brain," he called. His voice grew to a full shout as Jack reached the elevator. "And I'm the ranking officer here, and I order it, so _bring me the damned coffee already!

_Sam hurried off to the cafeteria._

_As Jack took a drink out of his coffee, he felt more alert, and he actually appeared to have the necessary coordination between his ears and his brain to listen to and comprehend what the President was saying._

"…_and so this is why I'm shutting down the Stargate program and welding the iris shut. I will also be detonating an ATT missile on this facility," the President was saying._

_Unfortunately for Jack, he had just taken a large gulp of his coffee. Upon hearing the President's decision, Jack sprayed his coffee all over the CEO's formerly impeccable white tux shirt, making him look like he'd been mud wrestling with the Vice President, who also caught some of the "spray"._

_General O'Neill was yelling in defense of his facility before the full implications of the President's closure of the SGC sank in. "Mr. President!" he shouted. "You're closing the SGC! Welding the iris shut! _WHY!_"_

_"There is too much threat from the Goa'uld to justify continuing the program," the President answered calmly. He was awfully calm, considering he'd just wrecked the lives of well over a hundred people._

_Jack's thoughts were racing around his skull like mad little hamsters caught between an ATT missile and an oncoming train. _Closing down the SGC! Putting all of us out of a job. Daniel, Teal'c, where will Teal'c go? He's not welcome here after that incident with his apartment, Bra'tac's dead, and the Goa'uld will just kill him. Carter…_ That stopped the Thought Express cold, saving all those hamsters. Carter, with whom he'd had an on-again, off-again relationship since practically the day she'd joined the team. Oh, sure, it wasn't like she'd be unemployed. He wouldn't be either, but it was _extremely_ unlikely they'd be assigned to the same base. Carter, who'd left her fiancé for him…_

_Jack swiftly came up with a plan. Looking calm and at peace with the President's ruling, he grabbed the coffeepot and his mug and stood up. "Mr. President, Mr. Vice President, would you like some of this excellent coffee?"_

"_No. Thank you, though. It looks delicious, but I've already had my morning coffee." The President was surprisingly polite, considering the aforementioned fact of the whole life wrecking thing._

"_Are you _kidding_! I'm on a diet! Do you have any _idea_ how many calories that stuff has! And even on top of that, it looks absolutely _horrendous_." _How did this guy get elected anyway_, Jack found himself wondering of the Vice President._

"_Well too bad. You get some anyway, diet or no." Quickly, before it could register on the officials what he was going to do, Jack poured the coffeepot on the President and his mug on the VP._

"General! _I'll have your rank for this! I don't care who your friends are! I don't care who supports you!"_

_Here the VP chimed in, "I don't care if 'O'Neill is my favorite general' appears on the wall of the White House in flaming letters 12 feet high!" Obviously he was a fan of Peter David's novels._

"_I will put you on an outpost training cadets in the middle of fu-" the President stopped to catch his breath, "-ing _NOWHERE!_"_

_As Jack rose from the table, Kinsley _had_ to celebrate. _Almost_ under his breath, just loud enough for Jack to hear, the man was going, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"_

_Jack snapped. "Here is a parting gift," he said, and he hurled his mug as hard as he could _at_ Kinsley. The erstwhile general turned away before impact, but he heard a shatter, some cracks and crunches, something dripping to the floor, and several very satisfying screams._


	4. What's In A Name?

A/N: Thanks to all of the people who've reviewed, basically, unless someone else reviewed while I was typing this, my two best friends at school. And, Stay on the Sunny Side, Yoko's Luvverly Assistant! (Don't kill me) And 'confuzzled' means _confused_. It just sounds cooler.

"Ah, the memories that brings flooding back," Jack told the air. "That's the kind of stuff that makes you feel alive!"

Unfortunately for any shred of privacy that Jack might have wished, the air had solidified into the form of Colonel Samantha Carter. "Remembering breaking almost everything breakable in Kinsley's skull?" _Boy_ did she know him.

"It's not like he was _using_ it for anything and the broken jaw let the rest of us get some peace and quiet!" Jack protested, thinking Carter was going to try to court-martial him again. The first time had been horrible enough. Thankfully, she wasn't.

"Indeed," was all she said.

"Ah, Carter, those were the days."

"What were the days?" Sam seemed a tad bit confuzzled.

"The old days. Teal'c 'indeeding' all over the place-"

"You make it sound like he was barfing!"

"-Daniel being, well, Daniel-"

"Can't argue with that one…"

"-Me wanting to annihilate everyone who moved-"

"You still do."

"-And you spouting technobabble about _something_ all over the galaxy. You know, I never expected to hear that stuff from someone so…"

"So _WHAT_!"

Jack had backed himself into a corner. "So…um…what's the word…innocent…that's it…innocent. I never expected you to be some Goa'uld butt-kicking genius."

"You did read my résumé, sir."

"Sure, but it's different in person. And call me Jack. Ever since that incident with Kinsley and then the incident with the _Prometheus_, we've been the same rank."

"Well, Jack, visiting was pleasant, but I really came about something else, or rather some_one_ else. Your cadets aren't very disciplined. One nearly ran me down on her way to the bus. And her hair kept changing colors."

"I thought they liked me better than wanting to leave like that. But don't worry. That was Cadet First Sergeant Major Brigadier General Captain Lieutenant Colonel Admiral Commander Ensign Airman Gunnery Sergeant Senior grade Abigail Serena Marie Geoghegan."

"Could you make her name any _more_ complicated?"

"Yes, but I didn't want to."

Abby realized belatedly that the blond woman sporting the Carter cut that she had nearly given her footprints to was, indeed, Carter. Great first impression. _Oh well, we're nearly to Cheyenne Mountain. Only a few hours left_.

The buss stopped. The door opened with a series of clacks.

"Cheyenne Mountain! Everybody up! Get off!" the driver called.

They were a bit closer than Abby guessed. As she vacated her seat, the passenger in front of her, a rookie-looking airman, waved at her and said, "Nice punk look." Abby looked in the bus mirror and saw she had a neon purple Mohawk.

Jack felt a pang of nervousness. Somehow he just _knew_ that Cadet First Sergeant Major Brigadier General Captain Lieutenant Colonel Admiral Commander Ensign Airman Gunnery Sergeant Senior grade Abigail Serena Marie Geoghegan was going to try to get into Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Base.

"I'm First Sergeant Major Brigadier General Captain Lieutenant Colonel Admiral Commander Ensign Airman Gunnery Sergeant Senior grade Abigail Serena Marie Geoghegan," Abby, her hair now in an elaborate brown knot, yelled at the guard, conveniently leaving off the fact that she was a cadet, "and I _need_ to get into Cheyenne Mountain Air Force Base! I know what goes on here! This is the SGC! I need to see General Teal'c! It's an urgent matter concerning," here she lowered her voice to a conspirational whisper, "Apophis."

"Fine, fine, go on in, but you'll have to still go through the rest of security," the airman gave in. "Just stop shouting at me!" Obviously this guy was new. A seasoned pro would have held up for another few seconds or so.

"Thank you." Head high, Abby flounced through the arch.

"Teal'c, are you sure Apophis was _quite _dead?"

"Yes, Daniel Jackson, I killed him with my own hands. Several times. Why?"

"Well, there's a girl here from Jack's training camp who says 'I need to speak to General Teal'c! It concerns Apophis.'"

Teal'c looked slightly puzzled. "Jack?"

"O'Neill!"

"Indeed."

"Shall I show her in?"

"Indeed."


	5. Driving Daniel Nuts

A/N: On earlier chappys, I tried to insert ------ to represent POV changes. This didn't show up on the final copy, so I've switched to O.o. Thank you. Also, well, I can't think of an also. Oh! Yes I can. Most of these chappys were typed in with LOTS of haste to satisfy the rabid reviewing public (two of my friends from school and someone named Blackfire. KUDOS TO BLACKFIRE for being the first person I don't know personally to review.), so there are lots of errors. Please excuse them. I run spell check as best I can, but it's not always enough.

Disclaimer: Jessi and Kari are mine. So is Abby. USE THEM WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND DIE! Email me for permission. I'm not unreasonable. Just ask before you use.

O.o

Abby wandered the halls aimlessly, waiting for Dr. Daniel Jackson to either take her in to see General Teal'c, or throw her out on her rear. She hoped it was the former. She really did. If she was thrown out, her pride would never let her alone until she dropkicked his pasty white rump all the way to Ipswich (suburb of Boston, idiots), Massachusetts and back.

With her thoughts drifting like that, she didn't notice the two girls walking toward her at first. One was a brunette, and the other was a redhead. They were both wearing tank tops and stretchy black pants and carrying large long-strapped bags over their shoulders. Most astonishing of all, they were barefoot.

Abby didn't notice them until she was about to bowl them over. When she did notice, she stopped and waved nervously at them. It was a bit disconcerting. This _was_, after all, the SGC.

"Hi, I'm Jessi," the redhead introduced herself.

"I'm Kari," the brunette said, a tad snootily.

"How-how-how'd you get in here?" Abby stammered. She was completely baffled.

"We were born here," Jessi, seeming the friendlier one, explained. "We know what's going on, this is the SGC and all that, but we aren't allowed anywhere _near_ the dialing computers, at least while we're kids, anyway. We'd get shot."

"Yeah, shot," Kari agreed blandly.

Shooting Kari a Look, Jessi continued, "We're about to go to our dance lessons. Would you like to come?"

"Sure!" Abby exulted. "I haven't danced in absolutely _forever_! I used to do it all the time at my home pl- town. Thanks."

"Abby! _Abby! ABBY!_" Daniel yelled, coming down the corridor. "Are you _deaf_, girl!"

"Are you coming to throw me out, Dr. Jackson?" Abby asked shyly.

"Why?"

"Well, if you were, I'd have to change into my other boots. The ones with metal in the toes."

"_Why?_"

"My pride would never let me alone until I dropkicked your pasty white rump all the way to Ipswich, Massachusetts and back."

Jessi and Kari giggled. Since they were very young when Jack had left, there had been no record of anyone ever abusing the archaeologist that they knew of.

"Ipswich?" Daniel asked. He was puzzled, having never heard of such a place.

"Suburb of Boston, idiot."

"Well, why don't you just _say_ Boston, then?"

"_Everyone's_ heard of Boston. _No one's _heard of Ipswich. I don't threaten and insult people who are smart enough to know the difference."

"You make this threat often?" Daniel asked.

Abby grinned. It was all the answer Daniel needed. He wondered if she possessed some wildcat genes, or Orion like in that old show. What was its name? Oh, yeah. _Star Trek_.

"Well, I'm not going to throw you out."

"Well, that's good. What are you here for then."

"Well, I'm here to take you to General Teal'c."

"Well, that's good."

Kari interjected rudely, "_Well_, when will you stop saying 'well' at the beginning of everything?"

"Well, you'll have to wait around and see," Abby and Daniel responded simultaneously. They looked at each other, each thinking the same thing. _Spooky_.

"'Bye, Abby," Jessi said, sounding a little bit sad, for only knowing Abby for the better part of five minutes.

"'Bye," Kari said blandly.

"You know, I just might take you up on your offer. I do _so_ love to dance," Abby told them.

Daniel gritted his teeth and looked pointedly at his watch. "Cadet…"

"Cadet First Sergeant Major Brigadier General Captain Lieutenant Colonel Admiral Commander Ensign Airman Gunnery Sergeant Senior grade Abigail Serena Marie Geoghegan."

Daniel grred.

Abby winked at Jessi and Kari. "Driving people crazy is a talent of mine," she told them. "You might want to cultivate that talent in yourselves. I learned from the master."

Seeing Daniel was about to explode, Abby waved once more.

With that, Abby allowed Daniel to drag her off.


	6. So Much for Security

A/N: I've worked on this A LOT recently, so I'm not waiting, just putting everything up. You have to admit that DANIEL lecturing someone about what the Air Force stands for is funny. This is a short chappy, but the next section is too impotent (I seriously _do_ mean important) to not start a new chappy. Floopygirl, author of much SJ, furnished Sam's favorite dessert. I don't know whether blue Jell-O is Sam's favorite dessert on the show, or just something Floopygirl made up. Anyway, I'm using it, and just wanted to give credit. AND, there's a bit (OK, you called me a lot) of parody in Sam's character this chappy. I try to keep them in character, but the urge to have Sam mouth off was just too much. Thanks to the few, the proud, the reviewers. And I _really_ mean the few. But you know I love you (in a purely platonic way, of course. :) ).

P.S. OH GOD! THE A/N IS LONGER THAN THE ACTUAL CHAPPY!

O.o

"Young lady, you are a mockery. A _mockery_ for everything the Air Force stands for!" That was Daniel. He was marching her down the hall, lecturing as he went. Suddenly, the alarm went off.

"There has been an unauthorized activation from offworld," Teal'c's voice blared throughout the facility, "all of the forces of security are mandated top the chamber of the Stargate."

"Can't he just say, 'Unauthorized offworld activation, security to the Gate room'?" Abby asked Daniel rhetorically, then her mood changed, and she continued. "This should be fun." Then, she wrenched her arm away from Daniel. She barreled down the corridor, straight into some of the infamous 'forces of security.' Abby steamrolled over them without a second thought, pausing only to confiscate the weapon of one, and the hat of another. She jammed the hat onto her head, thinking, _If this is who I think it is, the cap won't help, but _maybe_, she won't notice._

Daniel watched her sprinting down the hall, and had a minor panic attack. _Oh, God,_ he thought,_ Teal'c is _not_ going to like this…_ He flipped open his phone.

O.o

Jack was in the middle of dessert—blue Jell-O—with Sam when his phone rang. He pulled it out, checking the caller ID. "It's…Daniel," he said.

"Answer it!" Sam urged.

"Hello camper!"

"Jack, get Sam and go somewhere private. We're getting the _Prometheus_ ready to beam you guys here. We've got a major problem here." Then he hung up.

"Sam, come to my quarters. Apparently, Abby's caused some trouble down there."

"Why?"

"Move!"

"Ok. Sheesh."

They both marched out, Sam with her eyes crossed.


	7. So Much for the Iris

A/N: I bet you're wondering. This has been pure humor, MAYBE humor/parody, at a stretch. I can tell with my psychotic powers that you wonder why it's humor/drama. Well, this is where it starts. At least THREE WHOLE CHAPTERS of nonstop plot development with scarcely a joke. HOW WILL WE SURVIVE! Well, I threw in some apostrophes (') and some bizarre names to tide you over. I hope it's enough. And there's always the A/N's…

The Phantomette of the Opera

P.S. If you don't understand, see my profile. It will make it all abundantly clear.

P.P.S. See! It's a clever negotiating ploy to make you read through the randomness that I have encompassed myself with.

Disclaimer: The strange woman who comes through the Gate is mine, as well as D'am'ar'a, and the newly named Ala'sha'ya (aka Abby). Same as before, use them and die, blah blah blah, email me for permission, all that stuff I've been ranting about.

O.o

In the Gate room, the iris was opening. This was not a good thing. The iris was the only thing protecting Earth from attacks through the Gate. There were the security forces, as Teal'c's announcement had proved, but you could bet that anyone/thing smart enough to a) know the iris was there, and b) remote-open the iris could beat mere men with guns.

Someone was coming through the Gate. There was only one person, so it wasn't a team, unless the other members had been killed by the Goa'uld. There was also no IDC, so that was pretty much a dead giveaway. On top of all that, another dead giveaway was that there were no teams offworld as it was Government Inspection Time at the SGC.

The figure emerged from the Gate. This was a strange thing. It was Abby. Excepts for the new arrival's eyes and hair, they could be twins.

Abby noticed the other airmen in the room were shooting her puzzled looks. "It's _not _me!" she protested. "It's _not_ me!"

The stranger noticed Abby, too. It was almost impossible _not _to, with the racket she was making. The strange woman beckoned to her. "My child, come to me." Her voice was lilting, with just a hint of the inflection trademark of the Goa'uld.

"I'm not your child," Abby spat. It was clear that she was resisting, but her feet moved inexorably forward.

"My child, do not cover your lovely hair," the woman said when Abby was up on the ramp within reach, reaching for her hat.

"_NO!_" Abby shouted, but could do nothing. The intruder snatched the cap from Abby's head. Abby's hair, then in a green crew-cut, fell below her waist in crimson waves, just like her dopplegänger's.

"You are remembering, my daughter," the woman lilted, "only the eyes remain."

"And there they will stay. And I'm _not_ your daughter." Abby was completely selfpassured, or so it seemed. Her blue eyes met the purple ones of the alien woman. The air seemed to crackle with electricity as the two women faced each other. The airmen stepped back nervously.

Almost immediately, a hit of lavendar crept into Abby's eyes. With an almost physical effort, she pushed ity awaym, and her eyes seemed bluer than before. A green tint stole in then, and there it grew. It was so miniscule at first that her opponent didn't notice for several moments. When she did, her own eyes widened in fear. She knew what was happening, but it was too late for her to stop it.

When Abby's eyes were nearly neon, her hair turned black and grew nearly to the ground. Her skin darkened slightly, and her figure changed. Where Abby had been lean and muscled, this new woman was curvaceous and willowy. Abby had been pretty, even beautiful, especially to a certain colonel whose name I won't mention, but but this new stranger was stunning.

In short, she was no longer Cadet First Sergeant Major Brigadier General Captain Lieutenant Colonel Admiral Ensign Airman Gunnery Sergeant Senior grade Abigail Serena Marie Geoghegan.

"D-D-D-" was all the violet-eyed intruder could get out.

"Yes. That is I," the green-eyed woman's voice was firm and resonated with confidence, with just a hint of a lilt. "Go back to your home, sister."

"You're no sister of mine," the other woman spat, then turned on her heel and marched through the Gate. The wormhole shut down.

A few minutes later Jack burst into the room after a successful transport. "What did you do to my cadet?" he shouted. "Give Abby back!""I am sorry. I cannot do that. Ala'sha'ya is gone. I, D'am'ar'a, am here now."

Jack was getting ready to respond with a full bellow when Teal'c's voice cut him off. "Bring her to the briefing room, O'Neill," he commanded.

"C'mon, D…D…D…"

"D'am'ar'a."

"Right. That. Let's go." With this, Jack led her off.


	8. Who Is This D'am'ar'a?

A/N: I _know_ I say I don't do pairings, but I just couldn't resist. This adds depth and all that good stuff that the critics say they want. By the way, I just made up all the stuff with apostrophes (') on the fly. I took something that sounded exotic and stuck a bunch of apostrophes (') in it. I just realized this literally yesterday. (I wrote this nearly a month ago) Take D'am'ar'a. Take out the apostrophes ('). You get Damara. Looks suspiciously like Samara, the chick from _The Ring_. (Seriously, it wasn't planned) Here's a few tips on writing Sha'sha'mi'i (IF you email me for permission and I GIVE it.)

The word must sound exotic.

Ending with an 'a' is a must for proper names of PEOPLE.

The word must have AT LEAST one apostrophe.

The language is called Sha'sha'mi'i'i.

Now, go and email me for permission so you can follow step six.

Now, go and write some Sha'sha'mi'i'i.

P.S. Shane, if you're reading this, you've probably figured out that this is me, so I included meebage as the Sha'sha'mi'i'i coffee like drink me'bage. :)

Disclaimer: Anything having to do with the culture of the planet Sha'sha'mi'i is mine. This includes the name, any people from the planet, the planet's Gate address, and any words in the language. You know the drill; I've used so many original characters at this point.

O.o

"You seem to care about Ala'sha'ya quite a lot. Do you love her?" D'am'ar'a was doing all she could to keep from slapping this man. He was all scowls and accusing looks. Polite conversation was an alternative to the beating she longed to give him.

"I felt responsible for her."

"That does not answer my question."

Jack stopped dead. D'am'ar'a knew she'd hit a nerve. At the pain on Jack's face, she almost regretted bringing it up. _Almost_, she thought. _If he'd only smile_.

Jack, meanwhile, was reflecting on he and Abby's (Ala'sha'ya!) first kiss. It was a perfect day beside the lake, the fish _were_ actually this big, the sun was shining. Perfect. A perfect day in Jack'simaginationtown. Yep. The only interaction he and Abby had had outside the job had been in his mind.

"Well, here's the briefing room. Let's go in," Jack hastily changed the subject, leading her into the briefing room.

In the briefing room, General Teal'c was waiting, along with Dr. Jackson, Colonel Carter, and a few faces Jack didn't remember. There was also a security team placed in key locations around the room. Jack was amused to note that there was no communal coffee pot on the table. The only coffee in the room was a steaming mug under Daniel's jealous possession.

D'am'ar'a looked around nervously. If there was one thing she didn't like about being the Xi'a of Sha'sha'mi'i it was being on display constantly. This was all too reminiscent of the sessions of the Grand Council of O'zarka.

"Le'a, O'zarkans," D'am'ar'a greeted them, out of sheer habit. She held her hands out to them in a ceremonial gesture: one palm up, one down. D'am'ar'a figured that it wouldn't hurt to fulfill custom. It might just be that one of them understood the culture of Sha'sha'mi'i. The one near the end of the table with the glasses, clutching the steaming mug of me'bage looked like he was one paid to know such things.

_It's coffee, mom_, a voice inside her head said. _Not me'bage. Coffee._

At her greeting, they all looked puzzled. _I don't understand it. She was talking fine earlier, _Jack thought.

"It doesn't appear to be Goa'uld. At least not any dialect I know of," the bespectacled one said, as if she wasn't even there. Maybe he didn't know about Sha'sha'mi'i after all.

"It is Sha'sha'mi'i'i. I would have thought that explorers such as yourselves would know something about my people. It means, 'greetings, people of the Grand Council.'"

"Right," Daniel said, still in a bad mood at encountering a language he'd never heard of, "why don't you tell us a little about yourself and your world?"

D'am'ar'a drew herself up. She told them in a stately voice, "I am D'am'ar'a. I am the Xi'a of Sha'sha'mi'i. My world, Sha'sha'mi'i, is known to you as…" she closed her eyes for a moment, thinking, "…P42-5J7. Ala'sha'ya, known to you as Abby, is gone. I am here now. The woman who came through the Gate was Ky'lan'ia. She was once on the Grand Council of O'zarka, over which I preside."

"All who understood that, raise your hand, and mine too, while you're at it," Jack commented sarcastically, and a little bitterly.

"Fine," D'am'ar'a said stiffly, "obviously you do not care about Ala'sha'ya as much as you profess to." With this, she marched out of the room.

"Great job, Jack," Sam snapped, "you just ruined any chance of an alliance between us and the Sha'sha'mi'i'i."

"_Sorry_."

"You should be."

"Sir, the alien is dialing the Gate," a voice said over the intercom.

"How is this possible? No unauthorized personnel can access the dialing computer," protested Teal'c.

"I know, sir. She just walked up to the Gate and muttered something that caused the Gate to start dialing."

"This is a problem," Daniel stated.

"Ya _think_?" Jack asked.


	9. D'am'ar'a's Escape

A/N: I recently realized that since Microsoft Word thinks it's so much smarter than me, a lot of my content is being changed, not getting the effect I wanted. I know you'll still read it, and be able to understand(ish) it as you are intelligent(ish) people. Ta! (I've been reading too many British novels, I know. Sue me.)

P.S. I have issues with names. Actually, I have issues with lots of stuff. But it would take several large planets' worth of paper to even begin to go into it. So I won't. I can't remember the names of all the nobodies and metaphorical red shirts that appear on Stargate, so I just call them 'airmen' or 'hapless airmen.' Sorry if I offend. But deal with it.

Disclaimer: Same as Chappy 8.

O.o

D'am'ar'a steamed with rage. Literally. Actual vapor was rising from her and condensing on the celing _You told me the grey one would be_niceshethought.

_He was plenty nice to _me, the voice replied.

_Whatever. We are going home._

_Let us go, then._

D'am'ar'a walked up to the Gate and murmured, "A'laco Sha'sha'mi'i," which meant 'take me to Sha'sha'mi'i.' At this, the Gate began to dial her planet. She knew this would blow some circuits in the briefing room. She could already imagine the chaos she was causing to their pathetic little routine.

Her assumption proved correct. A hapless airman's voice reached her. "Alien intruder, please return the Gate to its dormant state." D'am'ar'a then heard static and frantic humans in the room above her head.

Humans. They made her skin crawl. The only human she felt any kind of charity toward was the blonde one, and even that was a mere ounce of goodwill, strained at best.

_Hey! Jack's an awesome man! And Daniel's not bad either,_ was thought at her.

_You have feelings for Jack. It cluds your vision. And me'bage-swilling brutes disgust me, _she thought back.

_COFFEE!_

Another voice reached her. Several voices, actuallyl.

"This is Colonel Samantha Carter. D'am'ar'a, I'm asking you to abort the dialing procedure…" More static.

"Ow!" It was the me'bage-swilling one. He must have opened the channel by mistake. "Jack! Get that gun away from me! I'm not going to shoot her! Don't abuse me!"

"Daniel! Grab the damn gun and shoot her! You! Get off me!"

"Sir, your behavior is reckless. Let me take you to the infirmary," a voice designed to have a calming effect said.

"Let go of me! Daniel, take the stupid thing!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"_No!_"

The wormhole established.

"_Yes!_"

"_NO!_"

"_YES!_"

The wormhole shut down.

"Jack," Sam said, trying to achieve the same calming effect of the guard, who was, at that point, running down the hall to the infirmary, where he happily spent the rest of his days with his remaining limbs. (Not really. He was just bleeding a little.) Sam continued, "It's too late. She's gone."

It was true. While Jack and Daniel argued, D'am'ar'a had slipped through the Gate.

"T, did you put anyone in my old quarters?" Jack inquired.

"No, indeed. No one resides there."

"Well, then, it's been fun kids. I'll be in my quarters."

"Very well."

After Jack left, Sam sighed with relief. "While he's off brooding the loss of his True Love, we can get some real work done."

"Right," Daniel responded. "Ok, so can we pull up the records of Sha'sha'mi'i out of the computer. D'am'ar'a had to have left some trace."

Silas sat down, tapping keys frantically under the territorial and micromanaging eye of Colonel Samantha Carter.


	10. Telepathy, the Final Frontier

A/N: Ok, this is a major stain on my (nearly) parody-free record. It's also a stain on my anti-pairing record, but I already explained that one away. Daniel's majorly out of character, acting like even more of an idiot than usual, but I attribute that to a caffeine high. Sam's out of character too, being all enraged and lashing out at anyone/everyone, but I'll attribute _that_ to exhaustion. So it all works out. I was going to say something meaningful and powerful and all that, but that's too much work, so I'll just talk normally. This is where the jokes start up again. There'll still be plot development, but the plot development will make you laugh(ish) while still developing. Enjoy (or at least endure and review. That's all I ask of you. Uh-oh, slipping into Phantom of the Opera mode. This is the part where you hum the _Twilight Zone _theme). Yuka/Kit/Suki, whatever the hell you want to call yourself, don't effing patronize me because I 'don't know how to ask for reviews.' I took your little 'tips' quite personally, and I'll keep begging in the same way I always have.

P.S. D'am'ar'a and Abby/Ala'sha'ya are indeed on Sha'sha'mi'i. They're communing with Sam telepanathically…telekinetically…telepathically…whatever.

P.P.S. One more snide comment, Yuka/Kit/Suki, you become the New Shunned One.

P.P.P.S. The comment D'am'ar'a and Abby/Ala'sha'ya first made to Sam was pulled from a Teen Titans fic involving a feud between Terra and Raven. BVP knows the author(ess) and fic title, I just glanced at it over her shoulder. The remark was made from Raven to Terra after Terra called Raven a witch.

P.P.P.P.S. I'm serious Y/K/S. Keep your little 'tips' to yourself.

P.P.P.P.P.S. I told you earlier that Word was messing with me. The most common thing it does is turnquestion mark exclamation pointinto either ? or ! I try to correct all of them, but it doesn't always work. I do my best though. No matter how many times I change it, it still changes. sigh There should be a question mark exclamation point after 'don't you know _anything_', 'she's your _daughter_', and 'what's the difference'.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I really mean it Y/K/S.

Disclaimer: Same as Chappy 9.

O.o

Silas knocked timidly on the door of Sam's lab. "We tried again, Colonel. It's like that woman was never here, same as always."

"Well _try AGAIN_!" Sam snarled. "We need here back _now_!"

Daniel laid a hand on Sam's arm. "Sam, w3e don't need the computer. Remember, D'am'ar'a told us her planet's Gate address."

Sam calmed down a little, and her eyes lit up with something that wasn't either anger or capillaries bursting from lack of sleep. "I remember she told us. But I can't think of the exact address. Do you remember, Daniel?"

Daniel thought for a minute. "I still can't recall it exactly. But I _do _know that it was six digits long and started with a 'P'," he told Sam finally.

Any small iota of the calm/enthusiasm Sam might have acquired before hearing this statement evaporated at hearing it. She grabbed Daniel by the shoulders, shaking him. Hard. It had to hurt. She was shouting at him at the same time. "_YOU NUMBSKULL!_ Don't you know _anything!_ _Every_ planet in the entire effing database is six digits long and starts with a 'P'!"

"What about M4C-862? It starts with an 'M'!" Daniel protested. He seemed not to notice Sam was about to rip his head off and beat the crap out of whatever was left, causing Silas to ask serious questions about his sanity.

You cannot call yourself angry unless you say Sam at that moment. "M4C-862 is a _MOON_! That's what the 'M' is for, you moron!" she screamed.

What came out of Dr. Jackson's mouth then banished any doubts still remaining in Silas' mind. Daniel had completely gone nuts. What he said to provoke this reaction was, "You know, Sam, if we were anime, you'd be _so_ chibi right now."

Sam dealt Daniel a resounding backhand slap. "If I wanted to know _that_, I would've asked! I want the address of where that witch took Abby, not some effing _ANIME_!" she screeched. Silas wisely chose that moment to beat a hasty retreat.

O.o

In defiance of any clear laws of physics, D'am'ar'a's voice with Abby's voice layered on top of it floated through Sam's head. "_Better a witch than a bitch like you_," they said.

"_And she didn't kidnap me_," Abby continued.

"_It's Ala'sha'ya, not Abby_," D'am'ar'a said.

Sam dropped Daniel in her shock. "But you're on P-… Sha'sha'whatever," she murmured.

"No, I'm not. Have you lost your mind, Sam? I'm right here on the floor where you dropped me," Daniel protested. Sam didn't pay him any mind, though. She didn't even hear him. Her mind was floating in the void the telepathic use to converse over long distances.

"_We of the Sha'sha'whatever possess formidable telepathic powers_," Abby was saying.

"_ALA'SHA'YA!_" D'am'ar'a and Awhoever snarled.

"_What was I going to say, ALA'SHA'YA?_" D'am'ar'a asked.

"_I, ALA'SHA'YA, don't know_," that A person answered.

"_Oh, I remember now, ALA'SHA'YA. Colonel, how else would I have known your grey-haired colonel was attracted to my daughter, ALA'SHA'YA, if I had no telepathy?_" D'am'ar'a thought/spoke.

"_I would have pursued him, but I divined that his feelings for another were stronger than they were for poor me, ALA'SHA'YA_." She was really milking this oh-I'm-so-sad act.

"She's your _daughter_!" Sam asked, amazed.

"No, Sam, _she's_ not. Whoever _she_ is. I don't have a daughter. You know that better than I do!" This must have been a very strange conversation for Daniel, since Sam listened far more than she talked. Daniel was beginning to think that Sam had finally cracked.

"_I have no daughter named 'she'_," D'am'ar'a, meanwhile, was telling Sam. "_I do have a daughter named ALA'SHA'YA, though."_

"_I mentioned earlier there was a woman who Jack loved more than either you or me, ALA'SHA'YA. Would you like to know who she is?_" the girl asked.

"Yes," Sam whispered. Fortunately, Daniel didn't notice.

D'am'ar'a's daughter was purposely vague. "_Rose? Iris? Tulip? Lily? I, ALA'SHA'YA, don't really remember. One of your so-called flowers, I, ALA'SHA'YA, think_." The girl could not have been crueler. It was bad enough to tell Sam there was someone who Jack thought about all the time, but even worse was to not give a clear identity. A clear identity could be tracked down. A clear identity could be shot. A-D'am'ar'a's daughter wasn't done yet. "_I, ALA'SHA'YA, can't remember the last name either_," she continued, positively enjoying the anguish written all over Sam in big neon pink letters. "_Smith? Anderson? Brown? Green? Some name a lot of you insects have_."

"Now you're just being mean," Sam told them.

"How am I being mean?" Daniel asked. "I'm just lying here!" He was on the edge of severe hysterics.

Back on the ninth astral plain, the inhabitants weren't as concerned for Sam. "_Oh, no_," D'am'ar'a's daughter was telling her, "_you haven't even begun to see us, ALA'SHA'YA and my mother, begin toget mean. Shall we, mother?_"

"_Yes, ALA'SHA'YA, let's_."

D'am'ar'a and her daughter took turns sniping at Sam, insults and remarks both belittling and vicious.

"_You know, ALA'SHA'YA," D'am'ar'a remarked to her offspring, "I think the colonel here is something that begins with 'P' and ends with 'rostitute'_."

"_Or perhaps, something that begins with 'S' and ends with 'lut'. Or maybe, what she is begins with 'W' and ends with 'hore'_," A chimed in gleefully.

"_Oh, ALA'SHA'YA, your sense of humor is terrific!_" D'am'ar'a praised her child with a tinkling laugh that grated on Sam's nerves.

And the torment went on. And on. Finally Sam could take it no longer. "Leave me alone!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "Prostitute, whore, slut, what's the difference! Just _leave_!"

The two giggled nastily, and then Sam could somehow sense they were gone. They lift behind one word, though. Do you know what it is? I'll give you a hint. It's eight letters long, has two apostrophes ('), and four 'A's. You're right. It's _ALA'SHA'YA_.

The word rebounded in Sam's head for what seemed like an eternity, then faded out as she smelled something terrible far too close to her olfactory canal.


	11. Sam Pulls a Jack

A/N: Kay, guys, I know it's been eternity and a few months since I've updated, but I'm not going to apologize (PLEASE FORGIVE ME) Ok, Blackfire, I realize in retrospect that my characters are confuzzleating. (yes, I just now made up that word). D'am'ar'a is Abby/Ala'sha'ya's mother, but is somehow in her mind. Ala'sha'ya is Abby's Sha'sha'mi'i name. All the Awhoevers are because D'am'ar'a and Ala'sha'ya get all PO'd at Sam if she calls Ala'sha'ya Abby, but somehow Sam can't process the sudden name change, so she doesn't call her anything. Ta! Enjoy, R & R, you know the drill.

Disclaimer: You know that drill, too.

O.o

"Sam, what happened?" Daniel asked, sounded very concerned. "You just started shouting, then your eyes rolled up and you collapsed. _Sam_, what _happened_?"

"Ala'sha'ya," Sam whispered faintly. Her eyes still had a faint, faraway look. She still hadn't recovered fully from her experience in the telepathic void, even with the smelling salts Dr. Jackson gave her.

Daniel saw that the smelling salts weren't working, so he decided to take sterner measures. He grabbed the omnipresent coffee mug and dumped it on San's head.

Sam abruptly seemed more _there_. She sat up, spluttering. Coffee streamed off her hair onto the floor. Looking into her eyes, Daniel questioned whether he should have woken her up. He could practically see himself being decapitated in several very creative ways. Most of them involved sharp objects intruding into some very uncomfortable places. Daniel winced at the prospect.

"Daniel! Why did you _do_ that?" she cried, coughing.

Daniel shrugged. "worked on the President."

Sam turned thoughtful. "Yeah. Who would've thought that he'd be under Goa'uld influence?"

"Or that caffeine would short it out."

Sam nodded. "It's too bad Jack was out of the intel loop. That incident with the _Prometheus_…"

"Was most unfortunate."

"Yeah."

"I'm glad the President _was _under Goa'uld tech."

"Yeah. I like it here."

"Me too, Sam. Me too."

Kinsley stuck his head around the door of Sam's lab. Seeing her sitting in a puddle of coffee with Daniel kneeling beside her was too much for him. He began to snicker uncontrollably.

Sam's eyes narrowed. She felt some of the fury that must have filled Jack on the day of that fateful 0800 briefing. "Daniel," she said softly out of the side of her mouth, "give me a mug."

Daniel grinned. _Sam's gonna pull a Jack_, he thought. Discreetly, he handed Sam the coffee mug she'd requested. There was hardly any need to be discreet, though. Kinsley could barely stay on his feet, he was laughing so hard.

Sam smiled wickedly. Since that morning, she'd always wanted to do this. She hefted the mug in her hand, then hurled it straight at the laughing man.

Kinsley opened his eyes just in time to get his head out of the line of fire. Sam looked disappointed that she hadn't hit him. However, her eyes once again lit up as she heard Kinsley's girly screams as her mug hit the opposite wall with an explosion of porcelain.

Daniel and Sam exchanged high-fives.

"I always wanted to do that," she told him. Then her expression grew somber. "Let's go see Jack," Sam said. At the 'Why?' expression on Daniel's face, she continued, "I have some serious questions for him."

"Ah," Daniel said.

O.o

I'm out of practice at Stargate. I've been writing too much on my PhanPhic. Oh well. I just realized, I'm treating Kinsley like a Stargate Raoul. :grins wickedly:


	12. Epilogue

A/N: Yes, it's been thirty and a half million years since I updated, but I want to get this finished. Yes, I did say finished. Just thought I'd let y'all know that this takes place some weeks in the future. And I'm going to beg y'all shamelessly to visit my homepage (accessible on the homepage link in my profile).

I don't know about review responses, I have so few reviews it wouldn't matter anyway, but if I do get removed, the fic will be finished anyway so it won't matter.

**Beverly Vulcan Princess**-You don't care about anyone's sanity. Especially mine. Wait. I have sanity?

**Blackfire**-Yay, someone around me besides that annoying girl in the mirror isn't confused by this fic! Woot! (does happy dance)

O.o

The redheaded cadet flounced into his office, making the formidable colonel blink in an extremely confused manner. _Wait. I thought she was on that weird planet with her Mother Dearest, not back at base._ "Abby?" he asked.

"Now, now, sir, you are supposed to avoid extreme familiarity with the cadets, and only refer to them by their rank and last name."

Yep, it was definitely Abby.

"Cadet," Jack said, acting like the word was hurting his teeth (although it may have just been the way he was grinding them together). "Are you not on your home planet with your mother as you have been for the past several weeks?" he asked with exaggerated formality.

Abby looked blank. "Home planet, sir? I'm from, Mentone a town in Alabama. My mom lives there too. Alabama might _seem_ like another planet to a mid-westerner like you, but it's really part of the Earth, not P7G-692 or wherever you've sent SG-1 this week."

Jack gritted his teeth. Even after weeks on an alien planet—her _home_, he had to keep reminding himself—she still couldn't resist rubbing his nose in the fact that she knew everything about one of the most secret projects in the government. "Cadet. You're lying and I know you are. You know all about what happened at the SGC a few weeks ago. Quit trying to give me the bag before I'm not a happy camper anymore."

"I seriously don't know what you're talking about, sir."

Jack spent the next three hours trying to convince her that she did know what he was talking about, sir.

O.o

Abby sat in her quarters, reading _Alanna: the First Adventure _by Tamora Pierce. It was a book she'd read many times, but she still liked it. Out of the whole quartet, this was her favorite book. She figured it was because it was the only one where Alanna didn't have a lover. _Whatever,_ she thought. _The colonel was acting really weird today. And he didn't even yell at me for lecturing him about the Stargate again. I wonder if he's on a new medication or something._ She shrugged and returned to her book.

O.o

Jack sat, at his office, thinking. _What is up with this? It's like she had her memory wiped…or this whole thing really never happened._ He went back through the interview, play by play, knowing there was something significant he was missing. _That's it!_ Jack exclaimed mentally. What he had deduced was that Abby's hair had remained the exact same color of red and the exact same length _and _the exact same style for the entire time.

O.o

The end…or is it?

O.o

A/N: I know y'all are fixing to kill me, but if you love me (platonically) and lavish me with reviews, then I _might_ write a sequel. Maybe. Well, bye. It's been nice knowing all of you.


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